


Won't Let The Pictures Leave Her Phone

by theprincessed



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, F/M, Pegging, Rimming, Sex Pollen, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:10:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprincessed/pseuds/theprincessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Louis has an unexplained itch he can’t physically scratch...and his girlfriend and his bandmates’ girlfriends get caught in the crossfire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Won't Let The Pictures Leave Her Phone

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written sex-pollen!fic before and barely written het smut, so be gentle with me. This is all the fault of Randominity. We were chatting about Louis threesomes/moresomes then this happened. Okay, it's a little bit my fault as well. Comments are always love, especially for this to let me know I've not gone completely insane! <3

It starts as an itch.

At first, as it’s natural to think as much, Louis treats it as a physical thing. It begins in his arms, but is bewildered to find that it doesn’t seem to stay there. The minute he feels settled enough to believe it’s gone with a simple needy scratch to the area; the itch springs up somewhere else. In his legs, in his feet, behind his damn ears, until it feels like there’s not one place on his body that isn’t thrumming with the irritation. The most frustrating aspect though is that it’s not actually that constant. It’s a coming and going, an urge that he frantically tries to satisfy in the hope that this’ll be the last time. He can make it through whole gigs without a problem, but then it’ll resurface when he’s back at the nightly hotel, goading him until he’s catching himself in the mirror absent-mindedly scratching his short nails into his skin.

It’s the night after their Madison Square Garden triumph of a concert and usually he’d rightly feel pretty damn pleased with himself and his boys for a job done good. They’re staying on in New York for a few more days and he had planned to maybe see a Broadway show or at least get some dinner, but he finally positively realises that something’s not quite right when Eleanor returns from her shower to find him sat half-dressed on the double bed, scratching at what’s steadily becoming a favoured spot on his arm.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, eyeing the pinked up skin but her tone is light, “Got fleas?”

“Ha!” he breathes, before shaking his head a little thoughtfully, “No, I just – I don’t know. I keep feeling...off.”

“Off?”

“Yeah,” he says, eyebrows twitching in frustration because now he’s said it out loud, he’s desperate for her to understand, “y’know, like, not right.”

“I know what ‘off’ means, babe,” she laughs, kissing him on the forehead as she passes on the way to her suitcase wedged into the seat of the armchair by the window.

The second her lips touch his skin feels like standing under the coolest waterfall on the planet, blessed relief for a suspended moment in time, but it disappears as quickly as it arrives and he’s left to chase the phantom sensation, swaying into her space long after she’s stepped away.

As she suggests cuddling up with a film in his laptop instead of going out, Louis suppresses his sigh and wills the itch to behave.

***

He should’ve known that whatever this thing is wouldn’t listen to him and neither would his body. He’s starting to feel betrayed as it continues, crawling along his insides. Whilst Eleanor, as his girlfriend, was immediately concerned before she did her best to put him at ease, Louis’ bandmates do no such thing. It’s a prime opportunity to needle him as he tries to sneak fingers underneath the cuff of his jumper sleeve. The skin there feels warm from overuse and he fidgets on the spot, eyes darting around to work out if anyone’s watching. Harry tries to cuddle him out of it, gripping tight, and Liam slaps his hand away any time he’s quick enough to catch him before he can scratch, but mostly they stick to teasing. He wants to feel annoyed that embarrassment seems to be a little more effective than the fleeting touches of forehead kisses and hugs as the hot flush reaction curls around him like a heated blanket, but it feels so good that he’s leaving himself open each time. His bandmates eye him a little strangely when he barely bites with a comeback before pouncing again and again. It’s all about how he’s impossibly even more tactile than usual and how it’s actually quite adorable. His frown automatically starts when Zayn distracts him with a snigger and finally says, “You _really_ need to get laid, mate”. The proverbial lightbulb pulses to life inside Louis’ head and he lunges forward, giggling as Zayn’s arms twine around him as they playfight and he swallows the delirious urge to kiss him from joy.

His mistake is to think that his own right hand will be enough.

A day or two after his non-date with Eleanor, it’s karaoke at one of the function rooms in their hotel, commandeered by everyone involved in One Direction as a party for smashing through their night at Madison Square Garden. Louis’ restless and tipsy, his hand glued to his drink and immensely enjoying sucking it through a straw for a change. He’s happy with an edge that alcohol can’t seem to dampen and for a while that’s fine, in fact the glow to his cheekbones and the pliancy of his limbs makes him feel almost sexy and he swallows around the mischievous revelation that right now he could do with a wank. He looks for Eleanor through the talking, drinking crowd of bandmates, friends and colleagues but can’t seem to keep his eyes on any one person for long enough to work out if it’s her. When he starts to think of her long, wavy hair sliding between his fingertips and her skin tight trousers clinging to her slender legs, he brushes a discreet palm across his cock as he slips into a darker corner of the room and quickly decides that he needs to leave. The door’s close so he eases through it, exhaling a short breath when he’s on the other side before taking off for his room.

His hands are trembling as he puts his glass on the floor to better use the keycard in the slot, his drink sat suddenly forgotten as he closes the door with his body. He doesn’t know what makes him move from there except that a bed is always good and this one looks particularly inviting, freshly made with soft sheets and he seeks out the shape of his cock over his jeans with a breathless laugh. It’s one of the best nights of his life, probably one of the best parties with all the warm, fuzzy feelings and he’s intentionally alone to masturbate. Never let it be said that he isn’t still a teenager at heart!

He unzips quickly and pushes his jeans around mid-thigh as he sits on the edge of the bed, licking his palm with the sweet scent of alcohol before he returns to rubbing himself through his boxer briefs to try and make it last. If he needs to properly get laid with another person, he’s going to make the effectiveness of this moment count until he can do just that. When he curls his hand around the base of his half hard cock, the tingle that fizzes down his spine has his legs straining against the denim still over them and his fingers moving quickly to tease him into a full erection. He’s clumsy with drink and need, but it’s all the better for it because soon his dick is curving towards his belly, sticky at the tip and sensitive as his thumb catches beneath his foreskin. Here, he’s free to fantasise about anything and in his mind he replaces his hand with Eleanor’s, slighter but a grip that’s just as sure until he’s aware that his hips are starting to roll in tiny circles. Spurred on, he can feel the phantom brush of her dark hair against his skin; falling over his chest when she climbs into his lap or across his thighs as she leans down to suck him off. Memories and thoughts converge and the muscle in his jaw twitches as he squeezes his eyes shut and his body goes taut for a second, breath punching out of him when he can feel his arse clench.

Unwilling to let go of his cock or his imagination, Louis kicks his shoes off then moves a foot up over his knee to try to desperately flick his clothes down. As he suspected anyway, nothing budges more than his open zip catching on the back of his heel so he chooses to do it all quickly, like ripping away a plaster. He sighs when room temperature hits the bare skin below his waist and the feel of cotton underneath his arse. The hand not building a rhythm on his cock comes towards his chest and pushes his t-shirt up against his armpits before rolling a nipple. His hips buck and he blinks down at his body, the realisation coming back to him that this is him, Eleanor’s not here. He always thought he just did that kind of thing to the boys for a giggle, but a forceful tweak to his other nipple has him biting down on his lip and squeezing the length of his dick. He’s reclining more on the bed, his feet off the ground and almost able to plant them on the sheets if he just let himself fall back. The thought has him shivering and he means to reach down to fondle his balls when the tip of his pinkie finger prods the crease that leads to his hole.

“Fuck!” he breathes, surging back into a sitting position because that’s supposed to be forgotten, that’s never supposed to happen again.

He’s certain it’s never usually this intense until he’s about to come when he remembers the itch. As if all he has to do is will it into existence using his mind, it slithers back over him like a crafty snake and he tugs faster on his cock, eager to find out if this will finally satisfy the invisible beast, but with a sinking feeling that it probably won’t. With his palm wet with spit and pre-come, he twists his fingers over the head, repeatedly pulling up his foreskin and trembling as he eases it down again when he hears a whisper. _Go on_ , it says gently, and he falls onto the bed without meaning to, his knees bent and toes curled onto the end. He pinches his nipple again, breathing hard and shallow, and roams a path down his torso to wrap his hand around his inner thigh. His cock slaps against his stomach as he lets it go, cupping his balls out of the way before the one on his leg moves towards his arse. He returns to his dick lest he chicken out and his stomach swoops as his finger damply puts pressure on his hole at the same time. It’s nothing more than that but he finds himself moaning, the itch floating blissfully further and further from him. He pauses, testing when, in the next second, a feverish wave tears through him, stronger than ever, flashing hot and tense like pins and needles. It’s enough to make him cry out, moving his face so his teeth clamp into the sheets to muffle the sound. Blinded by frustration and a lingering tinge of embarrassment, his insistently rubbing finger slips inside him. He clenches down reflexively, gasping when his hips churn enthusiastically and his body recognises the smooth heat. It’s the best solution yet, so he pumps his cock in time to the thin length of his finger pushing and curling.

He’s high on the pleasure and working up to adding another when he hears faint noises outside the door. Its laughter, he realises, feminine giggling, and then the thump of something falling over on carpet.

“Oops,” he hears right up against the door and his body arches towards the sound, millions of images playing behind his eyelids because it’s Eleanor.

He understands in split second fragments that she’s with someone, perhaps quite a few people, and picks out mumblings about the glass of half empty, straw-adorned drink he drowsily left sitting in the corridor that’s no doubt been spilt. His biceps tighten as her keycard fits in the lock – _clickbeep_ – and something clicks in Louis’ head to because he can’t stop now, the itch will come back with a vengeance and he almost wants to cry at that so he doesn’t stop but he can’t look either, his spine bowing as he tucks another finger into his arse and rides the upward curve of his impending orgasm.

“Lou?” Eleanor calls and he thinks _yesyesyes_ , “Are you in here? Do you know you left your – oh my _god_ ,” she says, cutting herself off as her voice changes breathily because it’s not every day you find your boyfriend masturbating to the feel of his fingers in his own arse.

“What is it, El?” another voice giggles and it snaps Louis from his chase, his chest heaving as he comes back to himself and wrenches his fingers out. “I thought you said there was more drink up here?”

Louis’ head lolls to the side and he catches Eleanor standing in the doorway, her spread arms keeping anyone else from entering and seeing what she can see. She doesn’t look angry or confused, just surprised – her pink mouth temptingly slack – with a little bit of concern thrown in. _Good Eleanor_ , he thinks hazily and shoots her a half smile. She’s tilting her head fondly, still not entirely understanding the situation but Louis jerks like he’s been poked in the side and his face twists in a sudden grimace. Eleanor springs into action.

“Shush, girls,” she says, turning to them with an innocent look and disappearing from Louis’ view, “Lou’s asleep,”

“Probably passed out from too much this,” Perrie laughs, obviously referring to the drink now on the floor.

“Yeah, probably,” Eleanor agrees, “I’m just gonna stay with him if that’s alright? Sorry, bye,”

Perrie and whoever else is with her manages to make their hasty goodbyes before the door slams and Eleanor comes to stand level with Louis’ face. He whimpers pitifully as she ruffles his hair and her thumb drags across his forehead.

“Want to tell me what’s going on? Or is it what it looks like?”

The easy explanation would be that he fancied a wank that included a little more playfulness than usual, but he can never lie to her and he’s distressed enough to want to solve this situation that the only viable option is to tell the truth. Whether she’ll believe him is another story.

“I – ” he croaks, the itch persistent again, “ – I still feel...off. Weird. Itchy.”

“Itchy?” Eleanor frowns, palming his forehead, “Do you feel hot? Like a fever?”

Louis nods under the cool weight of her hand, “But – but it’s _more_. Touch – touching helps so much.”

“I guessed as much.” she says in wry tone and he blinks up at her to find her smirking, “Why else would you sneak out of a big party to apparently wank yourself to death,”

“Not death,” he shakes his head vigorously, dimly aware that his hips still twitch in the air from time to time, “just ‘til s’gone ‘way,”

Her lips press to his forehead as she slides half of her body onto the bed next to him, “Want me to help?”

He strains his neck and catches her lower lip with a puckered mouth, relaxing again when she easily opens beneath him in a kiss and follows him down. She shimmies until they’re properly side by side, her dress hitching up her legs, and rubs a palm affectionately along his chest. He’s damp with the sweat of exertion and he means to lean away, but he’s never really missed an opportunity to make her sweaty too so why is he trying to start now?

She laughs against his lips as he curls towards her, “Even when you look and act ridiculous, you’re still hot,”

He tucks his face into her neck in thanks as she removes his bunched t-shirt from his arms and bites at the elegant line when she leans on an elbow to be able to reach his neglected cock with her other hand. He’s warm and still hard and she hums encouragingly as he kisses her bare shoulder and shifts his hips deliberately into her touch.

“Do you want my fingers too?” she whispers and his arse clenches again, reminded clearly of her blowing him and adding the feel of her teasing his hole into the picture.

He realises with a jerk that she’s already sitting up to pet him and that she probably felt his reaction, but he’s so grateful for the help that his embarrassment instantly melts away. The lads more than likely said to get laid as a joke, except this feels right and the itch is dissipating once more. Louis wonders if it would’ve completely vanished had he just carried on trying to sort things out himself and a groan rips from his throat as Eleanor’s lips lightly kiss his cock and two saliva-slick fingers wiggle into his hole to pick up where he left off. As she’s curling them sharp enough to make him swear, he hears a beep and neither of them are fast enough to spring apart as the door clangs open.

“Hey El, I’ve still got your keycard so I thought I’d return your – ” Perrie announces blithely, with Danielle coming up behind her, “ – bag.” she finishes lamely, eyes as big as saucers as she takes in the scene quickly, the strap of Eleanor’s handbag dangling from her finger. “I thought you said he was asleep!”

She claps her hand across her mouth as soon as she’s said it, as if she hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but even so Eleanor moves to cover Louis or let the sheets cover him or basically just do something when Louis fiercely grabs her wrist. He shakes his head, eyes wild like a blazing fire, and she frowns.

“S’not – it’s not enough,” he chokes out, using his grip on her to gently bite at the pad of one of her fingertips, the digits that were just inside him.

He can feel the tendons in her arm as she tries to flinch away, tries to make him see what he’s doing and what he’s implying but he can’t stop now. It’s better than when Eleanor first walked in and he doesn’t want to give that up without a fight.

“Stay,” he gasps, pushing at Eleanor’s side to get her to close the door with Perrie and Danielle on this side of it. “Please,”

“What?” Perrie giggles, her and Danielle’s eyes closed like this is all one big prank, “No, you’re alright, we’ll just be – ”

“Hey, wait,” Louis feels the bed bounce up from the release of a body as Eleanor scrambles over to the girls, turning them by the shoulders to talk in barely-there whispers by the door where Louis can’t see. 

His hands are clutching the bed now, his body spread-eagled naked and aching for touch and sensation and pleasure. He’s gritting his teeth and growling under his breath when Eleanor returns and he lifts his head, pleased to see that Perrie and Danielle haven’t fled. Obviously the braver of the two in that moment, Perrie wraps a hand around one of Louis’ ankles and smiles.

“It’s okay,” she soothes, “we’re here to help,”

A manic sort of laugh bursts out of him as he watches her open the patent leather belt cinching her waist. The end falls onto his knee before she loops both in her hands and crawls up the other side of the bed, curling the belt underneath his neck then darting down to steal a quick kiss. Her vibrant lipstick leaves an imprint and she giggles at it, swiping her thumb over his lips to clean it off. He turns back to Eleanor to see her and Danielle’s hands clasped together, Eleanor’s glance soft and coaxing. It’s the worried line between her eyebrows that must do it because Danielle sits beside her and against Louis’ ribcage, rubbing his hip.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” he smiles closed-mouth at the simple, effective touch, three sets of hands pleasing to the scrabbling menace below his skin, “more, go on,”

He grins when Perrie pulls off her grey dress, bright purple hair falling from its clip and settling around her shoulders and feels more sated in days as the other girls follow her lead. He feels comfortable because he’s no longer the only one showing some skin and they take solidarity from the fact that they’re together in this with one mutual goal.

“You’re a lucky boy,” Eleanor smiles, tugging on his hair if the look in his eyes sway dizzily like he’s giving in.

“Mm, I am,” he nods, distracted by the thought as Eleanor and Danielle pull him to sit until Eleanor can get behind him better, his head leaning back to rest on her bare thigh. “Hurts – so much – sorry,”

“Shh, I know, babe,” she coos, “No more teasing, promise,”

“Three girls and me, that’s tease enough,” he huffs with amusement before his eyes pop open, “Shit, what about – ”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, too busy rushing to get off the bed as the reality of what he’s asking hits him like a truck. They’re his bandmates’ _girlfriends_ , his _friends_ in their own right, but he’s shocked as hands yank him away from making strides to the door and step aside before he can crash into them, stumbling as his knees buckle. He can’t tell whether he feels lightheaded because of this mystery locked inside him or the sudden force of three girls determined to make him see this through. On his hands and knees, Louis’ aware that Perrie’s belt hangs from his neck and he raises his eyes both ends are grasped in one fist. They grin down at him in a formed semi-circle, clad in their underwear as it was the only other garments beneath their pretty party dresses. Their gazes or the itch itself making him restless, he sits back on his haunches to scratch at the angry red patch on his arm until Eleanor kneels slowly, catches his elbow and brings his arm to her lips. He watches dumbly as she licks then blows, the cool air soothing but her hungry eyes filthy enough to make him feel hot all over, so he struggles not to touch her when she straddles one of his thighs and whimpers when Perrie uses the belt to have him lie back, moved to the floor and for now glad for the softness of the carpet. 

With nothing malleable like sheets or pillows to grab onto, his arm flails around until Eleanor takes it again, pressing it between her breasts and kissing his knuckles as she discreetly tries to adjust her seat upon his thigh that effectively holds his side down. His other arm tries a futile attempt for the carpet anyway, but the material is short and he knocks Perrie’s knee right by his head as wet warmth closes over his fingers. Louis shoots a look to Eleanor but they say nothing at that and only stare at each other, Perrie breaking the deadlock as she leans across to massage her palm down the length of his cock. His hips make an effort to buck in surprise, but Eleanor holds him steadfast on one side and Danielle strokes his other flank, his hand squeezing hard into Perrie’s kneecap. Now when he looks up its smooth pale skin in his eye line decorated in lacy underwear and the scent of arousal and girl filling his senses. He’s pinned to the floor, the webbing between his fingers sucked into Eleanor’s mouth as Perrie tugs enthusiastically on his cock, the belt now just a forgotten loose band around his neck. Once his flagging erection blooms into life again, Perrie climbs off him, her hair tickling his throat as she shuffles backwards and Danielle replaces her in Louis’ focus, lapping gently at one of the nipples he’d so readily tweaked and abused when he was still alone. The reddened skin twinges under her soft ministrations and he wiggles as much as he can to show approval as Perrie discards her belt and crawls towards his feet. She taps the thigh Eleanor hasn’t commandeered, but Eleanor makes room anyway, nudging Louis’ leg out wider between both of hers as he’s a starfish on the floor instead of the bed. He moves his free arm just because he can, but Danielle’s dancer reflexes are razor-sharp and his wrist smacks into the carpet as she laughs shyly, deciding boldly with her body that he’s going nowhere from either side.

Perrie looks to Eleanor this time before she resumes pumping at Louis’ cock and he whines as she nods her permission and the grip is instantly unyielding and fast. She giggles breathlessly at his urge to thrust and meet her fist and he squirms as it’s a little too overwhelming, tight and claustrophic and ready to stroke his orgasm out of him. There’s something missing, something from earlier that the itch greedily ate, and he can feel his cheeks flood with heat because he knows what it is, but he’ll be damned if he outright asks for it. His minute shifting moves Eleanor and her breath hits his hand where he curls his thumb onto her chin, putting pressure until she comes close for a kiss and ruts her crotch down into him. With the slight release of her not sitting there solidly, she slides off but winds her calf around his and Louis hears a pleased murmur from one of the other girls as he’s kept spread open and another as his muscles tighten.

“Wanna make it good for you, Lou,” Perrie kisses the line from his pelvis, easing the grasp of her hand through the multitasking.

It’s perfect and Louis gasps, wiggling as she licks at the shiny, drying smudges of precome on his belly and undulating his hips until his cock brushes her throat. He doesn’t need her mouth to get off exactly, not with Danielle’s suckling his chest and Eleanor kissing his lips, aware that she’s wet for him, but he certainly wouldn’t object. Perrie asks him to tell her what he wants and he grunts, refusing by burrowing his hot face into his girlfriend’s neck. His tongue darts out to lick the tops of her breasts and Perrie’s hand tightens again. This time it’s manipulation because she’s twigged all too quick that it’s a grip that’s too harsh for him, but he’s stubborn and steels himself to withstand more when fingers gently thread into and pull the short hairs at the back of his head until his neck is arched and he’s slightly looking up at Eleanor.

“It’ll come back,” she reminds gently; “we want to make it stop for good. You want that too, don’t you, baby?”

“Yeah, but....” he trails off, uncertain.

Whether she instinctively knows or not, Eleanor doesn’t force him to talk but she does move away from him, gesturing with her hands for Perrie to let her take over and dropping a kiss to her forehead in thanks when she easily submits. Perrie takes Eleanor’s place at Louis’ side and at first he’s shy at the thought that she thinks he’s rejected her help, but she grins and crosses her arms to push her breasts up in her bra, crossing her eyes with a giggle when Louis laughs at her, no tension between ever arriving.

Eleanor settles on her knees between her boyfriend’s thighs and surveys the picture he and their friends make before her, hunching over to mouth at the leaking tip of his cock. Pulled from his light-hearted look to Perrie and the comfortable diligence of Danielle roaming his torso but keeping his hands in check, Louis’ free to thrash his legs more and he does so with relish and aplomb. Eleanor indulges him - he suspects she has practice at that - but only for so long before she strays away from the kitten licks to his cock and bites a sudden, throbbing bruise into his inner thigh. The bolt of pain amidst Danielle’s soft lips covering him all over and Perrie’s switching to his ear is a shock to the system and he groans long and loud as Eleanor continues to suck the skin, determined to mark him for the many scrapes he’s got her and his boys into. She’s still sucking when he feels something else and he searches for her hands, counting one flat on his sternum but the other is...

A strangled noise comes from his throat as she withdraws the deft finger inside him almost all the way out, so only the tip remains, then folds down another finger next to it, pushing them in and crooking them hard when she lifts her face to tongue at his dick. It’s a press that’s unmoving on his prostate and he writhes and longs for friction that he’s not getting, except for the rustle of carpet underneath him.

“Careful,” she chides, eyes immeasurably soft but he shakes his head, not caring about any sort of burn other than the one constantly rushing through his veins when he can’t feel anyone’s touch.

“Please,” he implores and she nods as best as she can once she closes her lips around him, the vibrations of her answer a glimpse of what he can have.

He sees her smile when Danielle and Perrie join forces with her and they’ve all got hands clutching him, around him, inside him and the suction of Eleanor’s mouth beneath her curtain of hair. He looks at Danielle pleadingly and somehow she reads his mind as she pulls Eleanor’s hair away and holds it against her head in a messy ponytail. Seeing her flushed face and bright eyes as the girls stroke whatever’s not beneath the swirling of her tongue has him so fucking close his vision is collapsing in on itself and he tries to push at Eleanor’s shoulder to tell her he’s going to come. She makes a noise like _so what?_ and raises an eyebrow because it’s not as if it’s her first time swallowing and he knows she doesn’t abhor it either. 

She’s taking a fortifying breath and three slender hands are fondling his length and rubbing his balls when there’s a knock at the door. It’s loud in a room charged with heavy breathing and wet kisses and Louis jumps the most out of everyone. Eleanor’s fingers push into his prostrate as he hears “Hello? Guys, are you in there? I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” in an American accent and he tries to glare at his girlfriend in panic but Eleanor’s not looking at him, her fingers sliding in and out of his arse as she jerks her head towards the door and nominates Danielle to answer it. Louis distantly feels that that’s something of a bad idea, but Danielle brushes a thumb against his eyebrow then stands up and walks away.

As their new positions mean that anyone at the door can see in to what they’re doing, Danielle luckily seems mindful of this and, as soon as she’s opened it to Taylor, curiously standing on the other side in her flowing, nude and gold dress, she pulls the blonde immediately into the room and slams the door shut. Louis hazily watches her stumble in her satin mules before Eleanor twists her fingers like a dagger and he squeezes his eyes tight against the shock on Taylor’s face, his ears ringing with her “oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” exclamation as his dick twitches in Eleanor and Perrie’s combined steady grip and he suddenly paints their hands and his stomach with his come. His world is out of control, swerving this way and that as he’s helpless to stop spurt after spurt, his blush blanketing his chest and contrarily raising goosebumps.

Eventually, the moment is gone and the aftershocks subsides enough for Louis to give in to the aching string of his spine, slumping into the carpet and instantly petting Eleanor’s damp hair in gratitude when he can open his eyes. She eases her fingers out of him and wipes them on his thigh before he lifts his head to languidly catch Taylor’s eye. She’s frozen on the spot with Danielle’s hand still wrapped around her clothed elbow and he feels a hysterical laugh bubble up out of nowhere.

“Bet you’ve never seen that before, love,”

Eleanor pulls a face to which he automatically pulls one back, “She’s sleeping with Harry, _of course_ she’s seen that,”

“I dunno, El.” Perrie hums thoughtfully, poking her fingertip through the sticky pool of come collected in his shallow bellybutton, “That was pretty fantastic,”

“Aw, thanks, babe!” Louis grins, figuring he’s got nothing to be shy about after what they’ve all just seen so he pulls her in for a celebratory kiss.

“I – I mean – ” Taylor stutters, but can’t seem to get further than that as Eleanor smacks Louis’ thigh where he’s bruised.

“Ow!” he complains in laughter, retreating from Perrie and turning towards Eleanor to slide his hand into her hair, “sorry, okay, kisses for you,”

She leans on her side and dips down to connect their lips, “You can bet your arse on it, Tomlinson.”

He’s happily swimming in the kiss when a bright flash and a curse causes them to pull apart and Perrie lowers her phone, her gaze fixed on it as she berates the camera for ruining the moment. They stare at her bowed purple head quietly until she notices the settled silence and looks up.

“What?”

“Do you mind?” Louis quips, arching an eyebrow expectantly, “I’m trying to kiss my girlfriend and you’re taking pictures like a creeper. A creeper pap!”

“You should be used to it then.” she grins, raising her phone to her eye to imitate a photographer, “Go on, give us another, hot stuff.”

Louis thinks it’d be frowned upon to take her phone and throw it across the room, even if it was for a laugh, but before he can think of a suitable verbal response, Eleanor’s long legs are clambering over his thighs with her arms outstretched towards Perrie and dark mutterings about “I’ll give _you_ another,” until she reaches her and tackles her onto the carpet in a tangle of scantily-clad limbs and giggles. Louis watches them whilst idly scratching at the rapidly drying come across his belly before he stops and realises what he’s doing. He moves his hand to the inside of his elbow, the patch of skin that’s raised and red raw from his frantic itching that could apparently only be solved by what’s just happened. Laid out beside his girlfriend laughing with someone else, the itch returns.

He stubbornly ignores it again with a wince, knowing in the back of his mind that it’s futile, but he’s also got no idea what else anyone can do for him. Maybe he’s ill, he reasons. Maybe this is just a rash that needs sorting and whilst that’s slightly gross and embarrassing, it’d be of some comfort to know that there’s actually a simple solution to all this (even if he’s just had one of the best sexual experiences of his life in a roomful of beautiful ladies). But the thing is, it feels like more than that. It feels like a lit match bobbing along his bloodstream, licking a flame right over his body until he’s burning from the inside out. It’s an urge, a compulsion, an addiction like Zayn’s cigarettes but one which hits him between the eyes when he least expects it.

“El,” he says in a low, careful voice, trying to catch her wrist. “Eleanor.”

“Yeah?” she says, but her smile falls when she sees the stricken look in his eyes, “Lou? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s – ” he swallows the madness rising in his head, scratching quicker over his arm, “I – I need – ”

“What is it?” he hears Taylor echo his girlfriend, but sounding utterly confused, “Louis? What’s wrong? I don’t understand,”

“None of us do,” Danielle answers gently with a little smile.

She leaves her dumbfounded and staring as Eleanor shuffles back to Louis and Perrie sits up, crawling into his side as Danielle flanks the other, their hands caressing softly in an effort to centre and calm him again.

“I – I can’t,” he croaks, his fingers like claws as Eleanor tries to pry his hand away from his smarting skin.

“Mm, you can,” she shushes, kissing his knuckles before a glint appears and she guides him to touch over her underwear between her legs.

It startles a giggle out of him and he snatches his hand back, oddly conscious that two popstars and a dancer are watching him touch his girlfriend sexually. Eleanor straddles his lap and briefly nudges their noses together, Danielle and Perrie’s palms sometimes overlapping them leisurely in a cycle of touching they’ve worked out keeps Louis’ mind present and correct before he’s figured it out himself.

“What do you need?” she asks into his mouth, so quiet only the two of them can feel it, never mind hear it.

His lips twist and his head tilts in thought when Eleanor ‘innocently’ shifts her hips against his crotch at the same time as another wave of feeling smacks into him, powerful enough to make him groan. “More,” he gasps, eyes fluttering shut, “I need more,”

“Okay, baby,” she whispers, kissing his eyelids, his brow, the high plains of his cheeks, “we’ll get you more. It’s going to be alright.”

“What?” Taylor’s voice rings behind them and Louis manages to huff a small laugh because he really thought the poor girl might’ve a) fainted or b) ran out screaming by now and he’s quite impressed that she’s chosen neither. A kindred spirit of curiosity perhaps. “M-more? More of what? Hey, will someone – ”

“Listen,” Perrie interrupts, sliding between her and the trio on the floor, “you can hold that and all will become clear. Please, sit down if you like,”

“It’s our room,” Louis feels like he needs to protest on his and Eleanor’s behalf but it’s weak and Eleanor stifles a giggle into his shoulder, kissing the spot to make him sigh.

Perrie comes back to them and Louis notes that she must’ve given her phone to Taylor and his head goes fuzzy for a second because _what the fuck?_ His reaction seems to be all over his face, but Perrie shrugs.

“I can’t help it, I want this imprinted on the insides of my eyelids and if I can’t have that, pet, then it’s going on me phone,”

“Mm, pet,” Eleanor murmurs into his neck, breathing hotly, “I like that. You want to be my pet, Lou?”

As Danielle rubs at his hip and smoothes her fingers over the baby soft hairs brushed over the tops of his thighs, Louis’ dick twitches and she looks across at Perrie, “Send us a copy,”

“Fuck you all,” he snaps, well moans really and that’s probably why it loses its acidity because, joking aside, it feels good and he _needs_ this.

Their hands seem to try for gentle when he appears more with it, but Louis squirms greedily, torn between provoking them into something as firm as before or clinging to their light touches that drive him crazy. He recognises his impatient energy for what it is, another symptom, but it doesn’t mean he can stop and he winces as new marks overlay old, the carpet beginning to burn into his back, his legs, his arse the longer he tosses and turns and valiantly tries to get closer. Someone makes a clucking noise upon a wordless decision apparently being made without his input and he grits his teeth, struggling to get his feet under him as he’s clumsily lifted with the press of breasts near the back of his head and slender hands tight beneath his armpits.

He blinks quickly as the girls let him drop onto something solid but comfortable and his hands grip at the edges before he looks down and sees the chaise lounge from the far side of the room. It’s rather ordinary looking despite the decadent, long shape, one colour and no frills, just sturdy and simple and Louis sinks into the cool cushioned seating with a wriggle as fingers comb the mess of his hair from his forehead.

“Hey Taylor?” he hears slightly above him and opens his eyes, surprised that it’s Danielle who speaks, “You can come a little closer, babe,”

Louis takes in his new vantage point – Danielle sitting on the arm of furniture behind him with Eleanor by her side, Perrie at his feet, tickling her fingertips around his ankles and his eyes slide to Taylor in the corner of the room, the bed an ocean of distance between them as she stays in her chair, her shoes kicked off and her knees tucked into her chest, Perrie’s phone balanced on her arm and steadily pointed in their direction. Her pale eyes are wide as she stares at the screen before she chances a look at the real them. He watches Danielle give her a nod and another smile and it could be her curly hair or the fact that she has that same ‘trust me’ vibe as Liam or something else entirely, but Taylor moves towards their side of the bed, a lot closer, and Louis means to bite his lip, not roll his hips, a whimper getting stuck in his throat. His eyes are tiny slivers when she licks hers, siren red, and the unbidden thought slaps into his brain of what she might look like with her painted mouth wrapped around his cock. He hears a breathless giggle, an _oh_ of sound, and then a hand is on his dick, encouraging it to fill and coax him into not thinking clearly. He groans, hoping for disgruntled as he says stop, aiming it at Taylor even as he turns his head and kisses the inside of Eleanor’s calf. Eleanor straightens from her perch leaning half over his torso and Perrie seems to be there to torture him, taking over from his girlfriend in stroking him with a gleeful smirk that tells him somehow one orgasm isn’t enough. He grimaces already, still feeling sensitive but from electricity that’s addictive rather than scary like the heat in his veins.

Drawn to her now that he’s dared to go there once, his eyes wander to Taylor again and he’s still can’t look anywhere else as Perrie cheekily kisses the tip of his cock, teasing him into round two. His hands go to the nearest body part, around an ankle each of Eleanor and Danielle’s, like human bedposts, and the warm ghost of breath makes him strain upwards until pale fingers hold his hips ready, probably because she was witness to what happened last time. At odds with her manner on this night, Perrie licks him like she’s giving him a choice, to say what’s too much and that’s sweet of her, but he’s starting to think nothing will ever reach that height, not when Taylor can bite her lip unawares and the lipstick stain left on her pearly white tooth has him desperately beckoning her forward. She slumps inelegantly by his side in her haste to help and he releases an ankle to curl his fingers over Taylor’s wrist.

“Do you – do you want – _ah_!” he shudders as Perrie sits cross-legged on the flat end of the seat and sucks the head of his dick into her mouth, preamble abandoned, “Bloody hell, babe! Warn a guy, yeah?”

He watches her hand crawl up his thigh then she pulls off with a smooch and grabs Taylor’s other hand, tugging her that way instead. Louis lets her go in fear of them dislocating her shoulders and his eyes widen as Perrie whispers in her ear too quietly for him to hear and Taylor nods in reply. He stretches his neck to look behind him and his heart picks up speed after a terrifying, rollercoaster drop. In the distraction of Taylor coming to his aid as well, he’d completely missed the sounds of kissing. Although by the looks of things, it’s not a slick, passionate kiss for his girlfriend and their mutual friend. Eleanor and Danielle giggle through soft pecks, a hand buried in each other’s hair and Louis tries to reach higher on their bodies, to be a part of it. When they glance and notice, they pull his hands to curve around the tender backs of their knees and he feels their twin shivers from the ticklish spots. He’s unintentionally trapped and stretched taut as Taylor hesitantly lowers her blonde head next to Perrie’s and two tongues try to lick him. He squeezes Eleanor and Danielle, but once they see what’s going on, there’s approving murmurs and stroking at his face, gently holding his chin down to keep him looking at what they’re doing and a cushion stuffed behind the back of his neck with no escape. He moans and bends off the seat with his back, the only point of contact not being held, as Perrie stops and presents the phone that Taylor handed to her again, leaving her to run her tongue all up the length of his erection. It’s obscenely innocent until she turns her eyelashes down and slides her mouth around the tip, slowly but assuredly sucking him in and then it’s just obscene. Her lips are a red slash on the flushed pink of his cock and next to the pale, flawless skin of her face but right in the moment he’s reminded of Eleanor and has a feeling that makes his breath hitch painfully in his chest that he won’t be coming from this alone. He wants fingers or just _something_ and a blush rises to his cheeks because he can’t ask that of Taylor, so he almost sags with grateful relief for a second before arching into the touch as Eleanor reads his mind (body) and tweaks a nipple sharply, his cock nudging further into Taylor’s mouth. He’s about to apologise but stops short as her eyelashes bat and the snick of a fake camera shutter takes his attention away from his short embarrassment and returns to Perrie.

His gaze fixates on the camera until he decides he can live without the prod of fingers if he gets to have that instead. It’s a struggle though as Eleanor and Danielle delight in flooding him with quick, unpredictable pain and an overload of endorphins as the soft, exploratory suction on his dick and the rough treatment to his chest collides and he’s holding his hand out to Perrie, demanding the phone with silent urgency. He thinks he might even pull a lock of her hair and a gasping giggle permeates the air before she gives it up easily, biting his wrist as he moves it back towards himself.

He catches a glimpse of his body through the screen. It’s like looking into a magnifying glass because Taylor appears closer than she is before he reaches down and smoothes her fringe, her image pristine except for the off-kilter look to her mouth and rose coloured heat to her cheeks. His hand becomes instantly bigger and suddenly he’s not sure he can stand to look anymore, the camera zoomed in so far he can see the wet of saliva at the corner of her lips if he stares hard enough. But as usual the girls have a different opinion and he groans as Eleanor’s thumb slides onto his tongue, keeping his head in place. Danielle holds his elbow and presses into his newest tattoo crooked inside the slim space and he gasps through sucking greedily on Eleanor’s skin when it’s clear which she chose as a pressure point. Instead of making him jerk and thrash in hurt, he melts boneless into the furniture but his eyes are skittish.

He can’t help but ruin Taylor’s lipstick with his aborted thrusts that she picks up anyway, bobbing her head onto him faster and leaving smudged rings of waxy colour behind. He makes another noise, more vocal even with things like fingers and lips in the way, as she pushes him closer to his second orgasm whilst he imagines Eleanor buying something brighter to try exactly this sometime. He holds Taylor’s head steady with a choked off, little “please, Taylor, _please_ , oh god,” as the friction builds and Perrie smiles at the view, curled up on the floor next to her with her hands suspiciously absent and Louis feels he may be close after all.

She sucks on him harder and he’s croaking a warning that his plea seems to have worked when she pulls away cleanly with a big breath and Eleanor’s moving from licking his chest with her nose nuzzled into the patch of hair to her hand squeezing the root of him and her palm curved tight against his balls, tight enough to wrench him back from the brink of what they’ve worked him up to and now cruelly don’t want him to have.

“Not yet, baby.” she says, “Gonna make it feel so good for you,”

“It was,” he whines, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, “she was doing good,”

Eleanor sits up again and she and Danielle exchange a look over Louis’ head. “Hmm, you are the surprise package. Come here.”

Taylor blinks at them, just as confused as Louis as to why they’d stop her there, but moves so they swap places. He feels a tad awkward as his head rests on her thigh as she glides in behind him on the seat then grins at the sight of her smeared lipstick and dazed look in her eye.

She shakes her head, “Tell no one,” but her mouth is quirked and he’s left wondering what she thinks when she makes that face at the paparazzi for a posh red carpet do.

Suddenly, there’s something weight in his hand and he looks down, realising he’s still got the phone and that Eleanor is sat flanked by Danielle and Perrie on their feet. He gulps down the anticipation as Eleanor’s hands disappear but nothing crosses her face so he’s fairly certain she’s not touching herself and is proved right a moment later. He wishes he wasn’t as she unzips her suitcase stuffed beneath the chaise and brandishes a thin, plastic shape and a tube. _That’s not for him_ , he thinks with a growl as the little voice in his head is already pining to feel it sink him and his voice cracks in surprise when hands grip his thighs and yank him further down the seat so his legs hang off the end. Taylor shuffles over to resume her position as chief hair smoother and face stroker, dipping quick as lightning to catch his lips at the same time as his legs are folded into his chest, a mouth pursed wetly at his hole with a followed giggle. His dick twitches but Eleanor watches him like a hawk and kneels at the side, wiggling a hand over to get it in a vice grip that brooks no argument. He’s breathing heavier and his pulse feels like it’s everywhere, including the idea that he can feel Taylor’s from her thigh into the back of his neck. Done with telling him what’s coming next, Perrie stretches his legs and moves low so they drape down her back, tendrils of her ridiculous hair visible as her fingers part his arse and she licks fearlessly at his hole. He clenches against the feeling, but it only makes her murmur encouragingly and he locks eyes with Danielle as she looms above him, his face aflame.

She crouches, pressing the tip of Eleanor’s vibrator onto his pink, bitten mouth and Louis dissolves into silence, parting his lips with eyebrows pinched. He sees her bite her own then touch his eyebrows to try and soothe the aggravated lines. 

His throat goes tight as she whispers, “As wet as you like because this is going nowhere near us. S’all for you, babe,”

His body flops uselessly on a whimper as Perrie retreats, her head popping up in line with the phone crushed against his hand and her smile wicked. He opens his mouth to talk with words, forgetting the cool slide of plastic obstructing his way and pushing in more when Danielle sees her chance, watching him take it lest he choke. The transition to Perrie standing and Eleanor bending over his groin is seamless and he gasps as Perrie’s hands close around Taylor’s on his head, taking her under their wing and directing how they see fit.

“Keep sucking, yeah,” she praises into his sweaty temple, “keep watching your girl sucking your dick, her lips around your lovely cock, making you feel it because you need it, yeah?”

“Plmmph,” he nods fervently, his sucking rhythm slipping in a loss of coordination as Eleanor rubs the vein on the underside of his cock back and forth with her flattened tongue.

She plucks the phone from him, too busy mewling and struggling to keep his eyes from closing at the increasing familiarity of Eleanor’s fingers as they trace his rim like a promise. He sucks harder on the turned off vibrator in case it’ll lead to that being fulfilled and breathes hard through his nose as Perrie shifts awkwardly, her ribcage moving as she sits down in front of him with her knees drawn up. In contrast to her hair, her underwear is pastel pink and his hooded eyes are fixed on the wet spot between her pale legs when she raises the phone to her face and snaps a picture and then two.

“Aren’t you a pretty boy,” she coos, showing him what she took, “with your hollowed cheeks and your mouth tight around El’s vibe, fuck, I’ll be right back,”

She hurriedly tosses her dress over her head and flees out the door, her bare feet the last Louis sees of her before Taylor moves his back to Eleanor and he hears Danielle tell her a quiet “good girl,”. Everything is perfect before Eleanor pulls off and Louis’ halfway through groaning his displeasure at being stopped again when she tugs at his cock fast and filthy and he’s coming with a sudden garbled shout around the vibrator Danielle keeps firmly in his mouth. He dirties his stomach and her knuckles with fresh come, a finger pushing into the forming bruise on his inner thigh so that they’re still touching as she licks her skin clean.

“Aw, I missed it!” a voice says and they all turn to Perrie in her hastily zipped, slightly askew dress and her hands behind her back, “Doesn’t matter, we’re not gonna stop now, are we?”

She heads straight for Louis and moves her arms out from behind her back. His eyes widen.

“Why should El have all the fun eh? Guess who’s?” she says, tapping the tip of another vibrator with a fingernail, “Yeah, that’s right, s’mine. Open up, gorgeous,”

His eyes roll into the back of his head as he complies, Eleanor taking Perrie out of her dress again as she watches her feed him the second vibrator, stretching his lips wide until not even a hair’s breadth can fit. He wriggles despite himself, Taylor’s careful hands and the thrusting plastic not enough already and keens when someone – he’s beginning to lose track of who and when and how – leans over and pats his arse, squeezing his cheeks and rubbing at his saliva-slick hole until he’s planting his feet on the edge of the chaise and trying to push down against the feeling. He’s horrified as tears spring to his eyes and, as Taylor kisses them away, he muses wildly that he _can’t_ possibly come again and definitely not so soon.

“God, I’ve got cock envy right now,” one of them says and Eleanor freezes on a memory before she eases one vibrator out of Louis’ mouth and walks away with it.

She’s in his eye line as she slicks it with lube and his body tries to send his blood south in reaction but it’s weakened and he feels himself barely change from the sticky, softened state as she kneels and draws the length of the vibrator along the cleft of his arse, shivering and clenching against the cold wetness and aching to warm it up. He hasn’t had anything inside him properly since Eleanor’s fingers, but the vibrator is rigid and unyielding as she pushes the tip through and waits for him to adjust. Perrie leaves his side too and he can’t find the strength to make a joke anymore as she clicks with her phone and tucks her fingers into the waist of her knickers to feel some sort of tempting nearby pressure. He’d gladly give her the press of something if the itch wasn’t hulking in the corner of the room, goading him to try and stop. 

He forgets that he wants to when a few more inches of toy fills him up and then comes the pièce de résistance – Eleanor grasps the end with thumb and forefinger to switch the damn thing on. She holds his hips pre-emptively into the seat and, with that taken away from him, he grabs for whatever’s available as the first buzz rockets up his spine, which happens to be a handful of Taylor’s dress falling over her knees. The material is delicate in his palm but he crushes it carelessly and moans high around the other vibrator lying prone in his mouth. It feels too much like the itch and he tries to thrash around before Eleanor prods and wiggles and the toy grazes his prostate. That’s like a constant crumbling of his nerve endings and he’s fairly certain he’s gripping Taylor’s knee as well as her rumpled dress, but no one’s complaining or stopping him so he assumes it doesn’t matter.

He’s wriggling valiantly under their hands and Eleanor fucking him with her toy when Danielle bears down on his sternum with her hand, where the arch of his spine is to force him flat, and his cock leaks tellingly. He turns his head on Taylor’s thigh but tries to follow their movements with his eyes, his unmoving lips split with the taste of Perrie’s vibrator and he chases it, his head nearly falling from Taylor’s gentle grip, as Danielle pulls it out with a wet pop amidst a disgruntled moan that turns into a purr as Eleanor fucks him quick and shallow with the other to make up for that loss and twists it out to catch against the rim of his hole.

“Come on, up,” she decides, smacking his arse lightly to get him to notice more than the pleasure clouding his brain.

Too wobbly to stand and too much like dead weight for the girls to carry again, Louis crawls as they move to the unused bed. He aims to sit but Eleanor shakes her head, catching him by the neck to kiss him softly and have him facing her remaining on his hands and knees as someone shoves a pillow under his belly, simultaneously brushing his renewing cock and keeping it torturously in this position. He rolls his hips but just about stops himself planting face first into the sheets as a hand pushes his arse to raise it higher in the air. He’s open and vulnerable and has probably never looked less put together in his life, but they don’t stare without touching him for long.

The first touch that he can’t see comes with lips on the warm nape of his neck, sticky with lipstick and he’s only a little bit comforted when Taylor gets on the bed so it can’t be her. There’s a giggle and he shivers as Perrie kisses him there again in answer to his question, sensitive from the fire rolling down his back as she tucks a finger into his arse to test him. Hyperaware, it feels a little different from plastic, textured and _real_ and people move in unexpected ways.

“What are we going to do?” she asks, “He’s still strung so tight,”

“There’s, um - ” Eleanor starts shyly, “ - some other stuff in my bag? Would you like that, Lou?”

They gesture her over there quickly and Louis leans his cheek onto the bed as she heaves a rucksack onto the vacated chaise, her expression noting with a curl of satisfaction the mess they made with lube on the seat and the odd drip of come. A speechless silence descends on the room once she reveals what other tricks are in her hand luggage.

“Christ,” Perrie chuckles.

“Wow,” Danielle blinks.

Even Louis can laugh nervously as Taylor never ceases her stroking of his wild hair in a determined fashion, perhaps not entirely ready to acknowledge that what’s in Eleanor’s hands is in fact a harness in one and a dildo in the other.

“We, uh, tried it once.” she explains, her eyes softening as she looks at Louis stooped with Perrie leaning over him and he swallows anxiously, “It was going to be a surprise if things went well with the gig and after we went out to dinner.”

He closes his eyes as he remembers the itch in full force that night but his denial still turned up to eleven, neglecting dinner and forcing himself to calm with DVD watching and snuggling with his girlfriend. He had no idea of her plan and he pushes his arse back onto Perrie now, a sense of wanting to make things right.

“You don’t have to,” she smiles fondly.

Her eyebrows shoot into her messy, wavy hairline as he moans “please, El,” and Perrie drops a kiss to his shoulderblade, slipping a second finger into him because Eleanor is too many feet away. He gets the distinct feeling that she’s enjoying this, past the point of preparation and curious to see him fall apart. Eleanor nods assent and makes sure Louis can see her as she fits both parts together and wiggles into the harness like its silk lingerie. Perrie kisses down his spine, pink lipstick no doubt like light prints of lovebites on his skin and her hands spread him open as, arranged over Taylor’s lap with his forehead pressed hard into the bed, Louis pushes his arse up closer onto Perrie’s tongue because X marks the spot, matching the rosy pink of his hole. She kneads his buttocks in her fingers as she goes, mapping the firm, golden roundness of each cheek whilst, across the room, Danielle helps Eleanor slick her plastic cock and Louis inhales sharply as he watches the two girls by the bed, little quick flicks and swirls of Perrie’s tongue changing to sucks as she reacts to the tightening of his muscles. It’s a common fantasy for a guy to have, beautiful women touching each other wearing very little clothing, but the reason why they’re doing that has his heart more like a jackhammer in his chest and his stomach falling through the floor in a shade of guilty arousal than any pornography could hope for.

Idly watching them as his insides constrict, he’s shocked into his threadbare voice again by Perrie’s rocking fingers, as she licks around them to keep it wet and his body malleable as the noises she’s unashamedly making for his benefit vibrate against his skin before she takes her fingers away and sees him clench around nothing, holding him open with her thumb then plunging them back in. He welcomes the tight feel of being filled repeatedly but also stretched and his spine curves as she picks an abandoned vibrator and sets the tip against his bones, dragging it to the dip of his back, exaggerated by the presented swell of his arse.

“Shit, can I just – ?” she asks incoherently, grabbing Taylor’s wrists.

She squeaks in surprise, but quiets as Perrie simply shows her to hold him exposed before something bigger than fingers is prodding at his hole. He frowns as its girth feels wider than a single vibrator and Louis grips onto Eleanor’s hand as it comes to curl on top of his. She’s smiling when he manages to lift his head from the bed for a moment, kissing the straight bridge of his nose lightly as she rests Perrie’s phone in front of him. He hadn’t even realised that there were more pictures and the sense of danger has him quivering and fucking himself back onto whatever is bigger than a vibrator but still isn’t Eleanor inside. He half wonders if they decided that Danielle should take over that when he blinks at the picture on the screen and his brain understands what his eyes are telling them a second later - his arse hugging at least half each of two thin, shiny vibrators coated in enough lube to leave his thighs sticky. He hides his face in the sheets as he gasps a nonsensical whimper and Eleanor’s finger traces his burning ears, her lips close to one as she speaks.

“You look so hot right now, Lou, so beautiful. Need you to tell me what will finish the job, baby,”

He shakes his head because _she knows_ , it’s obvious, but in an instant every toy and every touch completely disappears to leave him trembling. The itch is somehow worse because it returns tenfold and with an uncomfortable pain, sharpness in the side that makes him double over for a less pleasurable reason.

“Come on,” she coaxes, as Perrie reaches between his knees to hold his dick tight like a cock ring, “Louis, do you want it? I’m ready for you but you have to say it, okay? Is it bad? Gonna give you what you want, make you feel so good. _Say it_.”

He makes a noise like it’s being dragged out him, kicking and screaming and then, “Please,” he cries, getting the sheets wet under his face as a tear slips through his eyelashes and he feels a twinge of regret as he tugs on Taylor’s dress once more, “please, fuck, El - fuck me, please,”

“You’re so pretty,” she murmurs, holding his chin up with one hand and smoothing his hair back with the other, refusing to wipe his face, “I know you want it now, gonna make it better, I promise,”

“Please,” he echoes again in a small voice muffled in the bed, needy but pliant from the sheer bombardment of stimuli.

Kneeling behind him, he inhales as finally she enters him. It’s careful but confidently buried to the hilt in no time because he’s been teased to within an inch of his life. He feels hands on his arse forcing him down and his knees give out without much of a fight, taking Eleanor with him to sprawl onto his back at an angle that’s deep and directly where his body craves the attention most. She squeezes his biceps, her breath warm at the space at the back of his neck, and grinds her hips down hard. That and the semi-collapsed heap they find themselves in is apparently enough and Louis closes his eyes as his cock kicks up against the pillow and wetness spreads out from beneath his front, his third orgasm wrenched out unexpectedly to splash his ribs. Eleanor inevitably encounters a slight resistance as he clamps down around the dildo and she scrambles onto her knees again.

“Fuck,” she breathes, awed, “Did you just - ?”

He groans, hoping that’ll do as a response, quivering when she forgoes pulling out, job done, to carry on anyway. He can hear her soft instructions to the others but can’t place the words for them to make sense, only aware of hands pushing his thighs together and Eleanor sitting back with her cock still _there_. She goes even slower now that he’s come so early into it because she must know that he’s frazzled at the edges of his mind, circling her hips and pulling at his arse to show the point where her cock impales him to everyone who dares look, but Louis’ not here for that, so he reaches for her and connects with her knee, trailing his fingers in with the intention of slipping between her slender thighs before he touches her cock and his hand comes away slick. 

“Not – not enough,” he explains, panting, his voice hoarse like his throat’s been fucked, “God, harder, El, just – ”

He’s not expecting her to withdraw and his whine of protest turns into a high sob as her fingers replace her cock, crooking to instantly jab at the spot that has him writhing instead of thinking he can boss them around at all. A hand strikes his arse too, a slap that ricochets off the walls, and it stings with metal, the ring on Danielle’s finger scraping the skin. The addition of such a reprimand shoots into him like a lightning bolt and has his body briefly crumpling, squeezing the cock between his cheeks, before he falls on his side to make room for Eleanor sliding into his space on her back, her shoulders propped against the pillows. With a deep breath in, he gathers strength to kneel and sways there for a moment because he’s seemingly lost brain function on how to get from A to B. Here, he’s knelt inches from Taylor’s face and their eyes meet fuzzily. He’s soft and messy, but he’s always been a sucker for pretty eyes and a mischievous mouth except Danielle turns him away before he can so much as think about it, fitting herself behind Louis with her hands on his sweaty torso and a giggle that they share. She throws his leg over Eleanor as she wiggles horizontally underneath him, her hand wrapped around her cock and his mouth falling slack as Danielle presses him down until his arse is cradled by the slightly flared edge of the dildo.

Eleanor picks up her rhythm and whilst it’s hot that her slippery strokes so easy and comfortable now that he feels the whole length of her fucking into him, he knows that she’s working up to making him feel more overwhelmed than ever, so much that he can’t speak. He takes to riding her like a duck to water, trying to fuck himself on her cock in harsh slams that shake the bed and almost shake her body, his breath coming in shorter gasps before she yanks him down by the back of the neck into a harsh kiss so that her cock thrust into him on an acute angle and the harness fits right against her clit. He flails slightly on instinct to stop himself from crushing her with his full weight and his palm lands on her bra, feeling how her nipple pebbles behind the fabric. She licks her lips and they each grip a side of one another for balance as her hips keep working and she pulls his hand inside to cup her breast. Soft flesh under his fingers, he lets the other girls grab him by the hips to direct things, his body giving way and his cheek nuzzling into Taylor’s hand as she strokes his face.

“God, I wish I could feel how tight you are for real,” Eleanor blurts out in a confession, eyes wide and bright as she clasps Louis to her chest.

“We’ve ruined you so much you could fit another dick in there,” Perrie adds, bemused whilst also attempting to sound gleeful.

He tries to laugh, especially incredulous and flattered at the sight of her on the empty side of the bed, touching herself with a grin, when Danielle is behind him again and a low throb presses into his back. Obviously spotting her over his shoulder, Eleanor slows her agile movements almost to a stop to accommodate them as Danielle’s teeth scratch his neck.

“Remember this?” she singsongs and Louis stares down into Eleanor’s face as the vibrator touches his stretched rim.

His arse draws together and his cock drags on Eleanor’s smooth, flat stomach as his hips jerk forward and they both moan a little when precome seeps out. She lays there as he chases friction for himself, despite his head screaming at him not to, and he grips tighter at Eleanor’s waist once Danielle makes her move, her palm on the end of the vibrator that she cheekily holds him open for. It’s all the way in when she dares to turn it on and Louis’ fingers curl into shaky fists on Eleanor’s torso as he withstands wave after wave of the toy, edging closer to snapping, until there’s a sudden stinging at his arse again.

“Fuck!” he yelps, grasping at Taylor’s thigh to steady himself from the force of it before he tries to whip his head round to look at her, “What the hell was that for?! Does Liam know you have these, _ah_ – tendencies, Dani?”

“No,” she replies sweetly then pitches her voice right next to his ear, “he doesn’t need them.”

He’s biting his lip and wiggling his arse like he’s sent to try her will before Perrie cuts across them as she is wont to do. “Oh, what’s this?”

With the purr of the vibrator against the solid surface of Eleanor’s cock keeping the itch at bay, Louis’ eyelashes are still fluttering as everyone else stops what they’re doing and turns their heads to regard her. She’s holding what looks to be another harness from the rucksack (“I wanted a choice, like I was bringing shoes,” Eleanor shrugs) and Louis moans, shifting greedily whilst Perrie’s eyes take on even more sparkle if that’s possible and she trots back to them with her fingers through the straps, holding it and its accompanying little friend to her hips. Louis nearly swallows his own tongue as she climbs onto the bed and plants her feet either side of Eleanor’s waist, facing Louis with her new appendage before she kneels. 

“Remember how it was,” she starts, scrunching his damp hair through her fingers, “to have two vibes in your tight little hole,”

He hears Eleanor huff a giggling curse, wanting to roll his eyes fondly because he knows Perrie’s doing this for kicks even if he’s not certain where this’ll end. Danielle is behind him and he leans onto her to see what she’ll do, biting his lip as she places her hand flat across his forehead and pulls him into the spread V of her smooth, long legs until he’s almost slipping off Eleanor but the vibrator is wedged under him and going nowhere, causing his eyes to roll and not in unimpressed sarcasm.

“Would you want this?” Perrie continues mercilessly, swiping the dry tip of the second dildo on his thigh. Eleanor’s is flesh coloured, but this is pinker and alarmingly the same next to the flushed tip of Louis’ as it reappears through his foreskin by Danielle’s hand lightly around him. “Two cocks inside you at the same time? We’ve stretched you good now, right? You wanna watch Taylor suck my cock, babe? Dan, can you hold him up?”

Hair tickles Louis’ neck as Danielle agrees and lifts him by his hips, his body a curve between her and his girlfriend as she mutters about him being “light as a feather” and he strains to curl in on himself with something he doesn’t view as a compliment.

“It’s hot,” she reassures him, setting her shoulder underneath his head as Perrie swings towards a fidgety Taylor, “I know how to be held, you see, being a dancer. It’s not all strength, its technique too.”

He twitches; whimpering needily, as Taylor slowly opens her mouth to wet the dildo. She’s less concerned with how she sits and Danielle’s touches that gentle into nothing frustrate Louis until the peek of Taylor’s surprisingly fancy knickers has him extending a hand. He hears a chorus of consent and rocks forward out of Danielle’s grip, his finger tracing Taylor’s clit as Eleanor’s hands fly to his waist and dig in hard enough to leave the bruises that are faked on his spine through Perrie’s lipstick as she starts fucking him once more in earnest. His gaze switches to her in a panic but she simply bites her lip and moves in counterpoint to his rubbing, his eyes straying back to red smeared again on a cock but one that isn’t his.

“Oh my god, you’re good,” Perrie praises Taylor, pulling away. It’s shiny with saliva and she looks expectantly at Danielle after sending Louis a cheeky wink, “I think you should wear it. I’ve had my fun.”

“Yeah?”

“What guy wouldn’t want to be sandwiched between his girlfriend and her friend, fucked on their cocks like a little slut,”

Danielle shakes her head, “You’re something else, Pez,” and pushes Louis until he flops onto Eleanor and she can untangle their legs.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Whatever you need,” she says, kissing him deep and lingering to show that there really are no hard feelings for where he puts himself in this mêlée and he laughs a little because it’s quite ridiculous to be apologising _now_.

The next time Danielle’s near, she’s peering round to get a good look at his face and putting a hand on his ribs for a way to get something to push against should she need it, but most of what Louis notices is the slick of yet more lube as she rides the curve of his arse with her new extra bit, all the way up to the dips either side of his spine. He manages to get in a quip about having some idea how these girls feel about morning wood before Danielle slips the switched off vibrator from him and slides up against Eleanor’s cock with her own. Everything’s slowed again, including what feels like time itself, but that’s alright. He feels full of a lot of things, the obvious and then the abstract like love and affection and that they really are here to help, except maybe Eleanor, who seems to have harboured a fascination to try something like this for a second time and what a second time it is. 

It’s hard to breathe even when hoping to remain calm and less so when Danielle licks at his earlobe and he shivers down to his toes. Before long, he’s bouncing back against her as much as he can with Eleanor teasing what’s closest to his balls and the thickness of both them a perfect target to hit his prostate. Sat astride his girlfriend, he nuzzles into Danielle’s cheek and arches, his arse taking them in then tightening as he relaxes his posture, his hips moving with the rhythm and satisfaction blossoming on his face as Eleanor puts two fingers in her mouth. The only thing better would be more kisses – for him, between them, he doesn’t really care at this point – so maybe he’s entirely too enthusiastic when Eleanor and Danielle both do the next best thing and fit a finger each into his mouth. If it weren’t such a primal moment, he might worry that he has an oral fixation or worse, but he’s got dildos in his arse and real hands at his lips so he clings to what’s innately him, rolling with the punches.

“Can you bend over for me?” Danielle asks, not taking her finger away as she brings a hand around to the rise of his tummy, using the leverage to try and properly fuck him in more than tiny increments. “You’re not bad on the flexibility either, are you?”

He grins around his mouthful, Eleanor’s other arm crossing her chest and Danielle’s clamped on his stomach, moaning when Danielle goes a little faster until it’s almost like being fucked on one cock, if it wasn’t for his hole stretched over another length as Eleanor keeps him open. As a dancer, Danielle’s got a fair amount of stamina too and he’s left clinging to them as she takes and takes, breathing louder as she works up a sweat and wipes her hot face into the strong space between his shoulder and neck. 

He’s got his hand on top of the one across his belly, her fingers flexing teasingly, as Eleanor, moving in a softer fashion of the two so as not to hurt him, trails her wet fingers onto his chest. Danielle’s cock is snapping harder and he’s nearly close enough to lead Eleanor into a kiss when she pinches a nipple sharp and quick. He bucks, his mouth in a thin line as he presses his lips together to deny the shocked squeal, but Danielle smacks his arse and then they’re both doing it, giggling as he helplessly writhes and growls, indignant that they’d be so cruel when he’s that sensitive to touch.

He decides he’s done with it all when Perrie snaps another picture and shows Taylor with a murmured, “best one yet, yeah?” and then there are hands around his cock. Somehow he must be hard because whilst it feels like too much to bear, there’s also still a note of pleasure there as their thumbs rub over the slit. He comes, folded in the middle of cocks and hands and his nipples and one arse cheek as pink as the dildo. Barely a dribble, almost dry and exhausting, but they crow in delight and pepper him with kisses when it happens so it’s rather worth it, despite his vision swimming and his body and mind not entirely his own.

They take pity on him soon after that, waiting until the tremors stop to slowly and carefully pull him off their cocks and let him fall onto the bed. He’s drowsy but winces as he lands on the side that’s smarting from slaps and means to roll over, to say thank you, to say that he hoped it worked.

 

***

 

He _means_ to but doesn’t get the chance as the next time he opens his eyes it’s still dark outside but it’s only him and Eleanor in the room. He shifts, trying to get comfortable before recognising the softness of his girlfriend’s now bare breast underneath his cheek.

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

He kisses her there chastely before leaning up to catch her mouth, pulling her down until she can fit against his chest instead. “Where’d they go?”

She laughs, getting her hands beneath her to lift herself up so she can look down at his face, “Back to their rooms, of course. You were out for a while and they had disappeared from the party. Don’t worry, I wi-fi’d the pictures off Perrie’s phone onto mine before she left. Just to be sure.”

As she kisses him again, a peck that stalls but doesn’t really go anywhere either, Louis can say that he feels sated and peaceful for the first time in weeks. He licks his lips and murmurs contentment as she pulls away, hand burying in her tangled hair to keep her where she is.

“So. Taylor then. Taylor, Taylor Swift.” he smiles with an eyebrow wiggle, wrapping his arms around Eleanor’s slim frame to flop her onto him, “I’m gonna have to carry around the secret for the rest of my life that she gives good head.”

She pats his chest. “Just like Dani helped me fuck you and Perrie’s a naughty little minx. I’m sure you’ll cope.”

“I think my wank bank’s filled for weeks, months, _years_ , even.”

“Lou,” she says quietly as the joking fades and their eyes meet, “how’re you feeling, really?”

He takes in a deep breath then lets it out, figuring he owes it to her to think properly and be honest. He aches, but it’s an okay ache, especially since the itch isn’t lurking below. It’s gone. He lets his grin shine.

“I’m really, really good, babe. Although you’re missing something...”

She looks perplexed but plays along as usual as he positions her to straddle him. “I don’t really have a dick, Lou, you do know that don’t you? I haven’t sent you insane from the cock?”

“Ha,” he says flatly, shaking his head as his mouth falls into a smirk and he pushes her to move further up his chest, “No, you’re missing a thank you gift for being the best girlfriend in the world, doing what you did for me and making it work. Later we can go anywhere and do anything you want, but will you give me one last thing?”

“Haven’t I _given_ you enough?” she jokes feebly, scrambling to hold herself above him as he hooks his fingers to pull her underwear aside and flicks his tongue out towards her clit. “ _Oh_. Oh well, now you mention it, this is fine by me, to be honest. I don’t mind give – giving you that.”

The grin around his eyes, crinkling the corners, says it all. As much as he’s thankful and plans to thoroughly show his girlfriend the true depth of his gratitude (and let the other ladies know too, with words and hugs), he knows one thing is for certain.

It's good to be back.


End file.
